Abbigail D'Anjou's Story
by IndygoJay
Summary: Orphaned apprentice Abbigail must deal with Potions Master Bartlebee's death while attending her first year of Hogwarts. Takes place about 11 years after the seventh book.
1. Orphaned

It was a quiet July night. All of the lights in the houses had long since been out, the residents having gone to bed. Everything looked at peace. Until a scream, high-pitched and terrified, echoed out from one of the houses. It cut off suddenly. Lights flicked on, people came rushing out.

Witnesses would later say that a young man had run out of the back of Number 7 and into the woods. The family's money and valuables were missing. Mr. and Mrs. D'Anjou were left stabbed to death in the kitchen. Their little girl, only about a year old, was left crying upstairs. The Ministry of Magic took over from the Muggle police without anyone noticing. A young official detached from the group with the baby in his arms. He said goodbye to the others and Disapparated.

* * *

Master Bartlebee and the Ministry official sat around the dining table in Bartlebee's flat. He lived above his Apothecary in Diagon Alley. That morning, he had not expected finding Mr. Thomas in his den holding a small sleeping child. Together they had set up the donated baby items in the small second bedroom, set down the sleeping baby, and sat down with coffee at the table.

"I'm very sorry about your loss Master Bartlebee," said Mr. Thomas. "I know they were like family to you. Their will was for you to take care of Abbigail". Bartlebee nodded and took a sip from his mug. "Thank you. Please find the man who did this soon." Mr. Thomas gave his promise that he would and left to return to work. Bartlebee sat at the table alone, his head in his hands and tear dripping onto the table.

After a while a sound from the hallway caught his attention. A small cry from the second bedroom. He got up slowly and went into the baby's room. He picked up the crying child and held her close. She had inherited her mother's dark hair and her father's light blue eyes. Her chubby face was screwed up with the effort of crying. If Bartlebee hadn't already raised three children he would have worried.

He got her a bottle and sat on the sofa in the den. As the little one drank up the formula he gazed at the pictures on his mantle. Abbigail's mother was one of his apprentices. She was closest thing to a daughter he had had. He would do all he could to raise Abbigail well in her honor.

* * *

(AN: I'm sorry this is fairly short. The next chapter is much much longer. Thanks for reading! Constructive critisim is welcome. Flames feed my dog, Cerberus)


	2. Endings and beginnings

Abbigail D'Anjou ran through the busy street of Diagon Alley. She was skinny and tall for being only 10. Her dark hair was pulled into a messy ponytail and her bangs stuck to her forehead with sweat. It was hot for the middle of August and her clothes, a baggy black long sleeved shirt and jeans, weren't helping. Neither was her rucksack, which was heavy. It was loaded with bottles of potions to be delivered to patrons of Bartlebee's Elixirs.

She dodged through a group of gossiping witches and into the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. With a hasty wave to Tom the bartender she ran up the stairs. At the top she paused for a breather then continued down the hall. Occasionally, she would stop and knock on a door. It the person staying there answered she handed them the potion and collected the money. If not, she left a note for them. Finished with her deliveries, she went downstairs and walked up to the bar.

"Hello, . Could I have a bowl of pea soup, pumpkin juice, and some bread and butter please?" She asked. "Of course you can," he replied. He got her order and she brought it to a little table off in the corner. She carefully counted out the money she had collected. Some people had a habit of trying to pay her less then she asked for. She counted the money in front of the costumers then again during break.

She finished her meal and ran back out the door. She stopped five more times on her way back to Master Bartlebee's. The apothecary had been her home for 9 years. She had become his ward as a baby and he had raised her, telling her stories about her mother and father. Her mother had been his last student. She took great pride in being his youngest apprentice, having started learning from him at 5-years-old.

"Master Bartlebee! I'm back!" she called as she walked into the shop. She went into the back room to set down her pack then went upstairs. Bartlebee was sitting in the den, what was left of his lunch on a plate beside his chair. He was reading the Daily Prophet. She flopped onto the couch and grabbed her copy of the latest Quibbler. "Everything to it's purchaser?" Bartlebee asked. "All except . She wasn't in but I've left a note." she answered. He smiled over at her. "Then you're done today. Use you free time wisely."

She jumped off the couch and hugged him. She got her personal rucksack from her room along with her coin bag. She spent the rest of the day outside. She bought new books and an ice cream sundae. She went back home to cook supper for her and Bartlebee.

They ate together and talked over the Prophet's news. They both agreed that Minister Kingsly was brilliant. He had just passed new pro-werewolf laws in honor of Remus Lupin, one of the Defenders of Hogwarts. They moved into the den to play a few games of chess. Abbi refused to give up until she won a game and had forbade Master Bartlebee from letting her win. They were now 22 to 0. He sent her off to bed with a promise of another game or two tomorrow.

* * *

It happened so fast. One moment she was bringing Mrs. Smith her purchase. The next second she was stuck in the crowd, trying to get a look at the apothecary. Bartlebee's Elixirs was up in flames. Ministry people were shooting huge streams of water into the burning building though it didn't seem like they were making any headway. Thick black smoke was billowing into the sky, slowly obscuring the sun.

She wasn't sure when the fire had been put out. She only remembered fighting to the front of the crowd and running inside. Shouts followed her in. The walls were charred and smoke still blocked most of her vision. "Master! Master Bartlebee!" she screamed. _'It's lunchtime, he'll be upstairs.'_ She thought taking the now rickety stairs two at a time. "Master Bartlebee!" she called again. She made her way over parts of the roof and into the den. There was his chair and in it...

* * *

The Ministry let her get what was left of her things from her room. She clutched her rucksack to her chest as she was led down a road in some London suburb. In it was the clothes she could save, the books and her journal (both dug up from the partially collapsed room), her favorite stuffed animal (a grayish-silver wolf that a person at the Ministry had repaired that afternoon, and a strange messenger bag she had found in the wreckage. She had only brought it because she had never seen it before and it had the Slytherin Crest from Hogwarts on it.

They stopped in front of a cold looking building. Above the door was the inscription _Potter's Home for Orphans. _A very formal-looking title for an unremarkable building. The woman who had been walking with her knocked on the door. They waited a moment or two before the door was opened by a kindly women. "Is this the poor dear?" asked the woman. She was plump and had bright red hair with only a few strands of gray it. She also had laughs lines and worry lines.

"Yes it is, Molly. I wish I could stay but we've got another call in Hogsmead." answered the Ministry woman. Quietly, thinking Abbi couldn't hear, she continued, "She hasn't said a word or shed a tear. We're a little worried." The red-haired woman smiled sadly. "I'll talk to her tomorrow," the woman looked down at Abbi. "Hello there. I've been waiting for you." The Ministry woman gently nudged Abbi forward. "You'll be alright here, kiddo," she said encouragingly. She gave Abbi's shoulder a squeeze before walking a way some and Disapparating. The woman in the doorway stepped aside. "Come in, dear," she said. "We'll get you settled in."

Abbi stepped inside obediently. She quickly took to staring at the floor as the woman led her upstairs. "I'm Molly Weasly but most children here call me Mrs. Molly," she said. "We've got you a nice comfy room to yourself and some more clothes. They should fit nicely. If not we'll fix 'em up." She opened a door at the end of the hallway and again moved aside so Abbi could go in.

The room was somewhat small with a twin bed and a single window with white curtains facing east. There was a wardrobe, a simple desk and chair, and an end table. There were hooks near the door for jackets and hats. The walls themselves were off-white and the comforter and pillowcases were a cream-color. On the desk and end table were candle holders with new white candles in them. There was another door off to the left.

"I'll fill you in on the rules tomorrow after breakfast. For now, there's a bathroom behind that door there. You'll be sharing it with one of the other girls so knock first," said. She moved over to the desk and opened the top drawer. "There's quills, ink, paper, and all that in here. There's two sinks in the bathroom, yours is the right-hand one. There's all your bathroom things in the drawers beside it."

She moved back to the door and faced Abbi, who had moved over to the bed. "Unpack and head straight to bed. You've had a long day." With a sad smile to Abbi, she left shutting the door.

Abbi unpacked her rucksack, putting the messenger bag in the bottom of the three drawers in her wardrobe to look at later. She noted the brand new clothes as she went. This place seemed to have a lot of money in it. She quickly changed into her new pajama pants and one of Master Bartlebee's old shirts. She had managed to take two or 3 of them before they had made her leave. One of the was his favorite sweater. It was dark gray and soft and still smelled like herbs and coffee. Threw her dirty clothes in the laundry basket that had been in the wardrobe as well.

She blew out both candles and slipped under the covers of her bed. She stared up at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of people around her. It was almost absolutely silent. There wasn't the soft off-key humming of someone going through a nightly routine. No smell of herbs and potions. Nothing. She hugged her wolf, Beebee, to her chest. In the quiet and dark, with no one to see her, she started to cry.

* * *

(AN: Sorry if it seems a bit rushed. I know I jumped right to Abbi being orphaned again but her story really starts here. I've tried to keep things that I've mentioned as close to truth as possible. )


End file.
